


Don't Leave

by lonelymarblesoda



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Drabble, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, tommy is hurt, vent fic kinda, wilbur wants to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27953798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelymarblesoda/pseuds/lonelymarblesoda
Summary: Tommy was spiraling, and Wilbur watched on.It was eerily like they'd switched places.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, others that im too lazy to tag sorry
Comments: 12
Kudos: 290





	Don't Leave

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I've ever been as lonely as right now. It made the exile arch hit so much worse; I might have to take a break tbh.
> 
> I realized I have no friends irl or otherwise. People know my name and that's about it. :)

There was the soft pittering of rain against a white tent; a calming atmosphere unmatching to Tommy’s internal struggles. The skies outside were grey, but water pushed gently against the shore, and flowers still stood tall, as though they were being filled with new life as the rain fell.

Tommy closed his eyes, and was finally allowed to embrace a fitful rest. A transparent hand cards comfortingly through blond locks, the young boy unconsciously leaning into it. Wilbur stared solemnly at his baby brother; Tommy was truly suffering. Wilbur just wanted to help him, to hold him again, to protect him from the world. Alas, a ghost could only do so much.

No one had visited them in exile since Dream, Bad, and Sapnap had come over while Tommy was working on building a nether portal. Tommy had grown increasingly lonely-- speaking less, looking at the sea hoping to see a boat,  _ anyone’s _ boat. Ghostbur was the only witness to the boy’s withdrawal. Dream had confiscated Tommy’s communicator the last time he was here, so their only outside information came from when Wilbur would make his sporadic journeys back to L’manberg. And Wilbur was even doing that less and less… 

Tommy started to grow distraught and desperate everytime he attempted to leave, begging his older brother to not leave him alone. Ghostbur’s dead heart hated seeing Tommy like that, so most of the time he stayed. 

Christmas was in two days. Wilbur had a feeling that if no one came to visit on Christmas day, Tommy would fully break. He just needed human interaction with an  _ alive  _ person. Ghostbur found himself truly cursing his alive self’s actions for the first time.  _ How could he leave Tommy behind like this? _

It was this worry that drove the transparent man to action; he needed to get someone here, he needed to force them to help Tommy. He had planned it out already, slipping in some sleep potion into Tommy’s last meal, so he hopefully wouldn’t wake up while Wilbur had gone off to fetch someone. He’s sure Tommy will be angry with him once he finds out, but he doesn’t want Tommy to freak out if he wakes up and cannot find Wilbur (the last time that’d happened...well, let’s just say there could’ve been two ghosts roaming the island).

As Wilbur finally turned away, heading to the shore near Logstedshire, Tommy’s eyebrows scrunching together after his hand stopped combing his hair. The tied rowboat cut through the water smoothly, and the ghost began his journey. 

\--

_ Ragged breathing. Running. Water in his lungs. _

_ “Wilbur!?” The boy shouted, running frantically through the dense forest. “Wilbur! Please, this isn’t a funny joke! It’s not funny, it’s really not!” A hysteric sob.  _

_ Had he imagined his brother this whole time? Were ghosts even real? How long had he been here again? Tommy’s knees gave out, and he tumbled to the damp ground. He just wanted Wilby. He scrambled desperately through his inventory, grabbing out an iron sword. If his brother wouldn’t come to him, he’d just have to send himself to Wil.  _

__

_ His teeth clenched so hard that he started to get a headache. Right as he was about to plunge the sword directly into his gut, someone else yanked it away.  _

_ “Tommy, I’m right here! I’m right here,” The frail voice of ghostbur pleaded to him. _

_ “W-wilby?” The youngest sobbed, clutching onto the pale yellow sweater of his brother as he was embraced. “Please don’t leave me again. Please don’t, please,” a comforting hand grabbed his own. _

_ “I won’t, I won’t, shh,” he clutched Tommy tighter. _

\--

Tommy jerked awake, immediately looking for the one person who could give him comfort. Only to realize that Ghostbur wasn’t in his tent. Panic started to rise in his throat. He did his best to keep it down. He noticed a note pinned to one of the wooden poled holding up the tent. Squinting, he read it to himself.

_ Tommy, sorry if you have woken and I am not here. I promise I will be back soon, with a present! I have left some blue for you in the nearby chest as well! Love you Bubba. _

_ Signed, Ghostbur _

The young boy whimpered. He hated it when Wilbur left; his thoughts consumed him. Nevertheless, at least he had a note this time. He exited his tent, grabbing some of Wilbur’s prized blue on the way out. The sun was almost above him, so it must be close to twelve. 

To keep his thoughts off of Wilbur’s absence, Tommy busied himself with the daily chores of survival: restore food supply, boil more fresh water, check up on Prime Log, and carve more friends for himself. A fairly recent skill he developed to cope.

As a few hours ticked by, however, the bright day started to become obscured, eerily reminiscent to the previous night’s storm. The blond didn’t fully pick up on it until he felt two drops of water land on his hand. Then a few more, and then it was suddenly pouring.

Blinking, Tommy headed into Logstedshire where the blue tent was; it reminded him of home because of all the polaroid pictures his brother had hung up. As the rain began to pound at the tied down flaps, Tommy’s anxiety began to rise. It was so loud. He wanted Wilby. 

Trembling hands raised to cover his ears. He heard a voice moments later, but it sounded muffled and distant. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I can finish this, sorry guys :(


End file.
